


Sky Unending

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Series: Euphoria [3]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wings, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Steve Is a Good Bro, Steve is so far gone in these two it's not even funny, Wing AU, Wingfic, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you don't need wings to fly. </p><p>Prequel to Euphoria in Flight and Sequel to Icarus Rising</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hollywood Comes to Captain Rogers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wilsonrogers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilsonrogers/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you lovely readers get more of Euphoria cause fucking _hell_ there is a limited amount of wing!fics in any fandom.
> 
> That and I'm tired of seeing it in my WIPs. I promised myself that I'd clear out a few! 
> 
> Enjoy~ 
> 
> _Fic Note: Peggy's wings are a European kestrel's and Angela's are a green jay's. Sam's are barred owl's._

* * *

Steven Grant Rogers has one wish that will never come true; he wants to fly. 

...That isn't to say it's _all_ bad. 

Steve's a physical therapist for both winged and humans, his job full of grumbling people well on their way to recovery. Sometimes that means feathers littered on the floor of his studio with enormous vaulted ceilings for the winged to stretch as far as they want. 

He keeps a W in the window, reminding the public that it's a winged-friendly place and he won't tolerate slurs or harassment outside of his studio. The first client (and privately his favorite) is a server who sprained her wing when she hit it on a door a few weeks back. Angie Martinelli is incredibly talented as both an actress and a server. 

"Hey Stevie," Angie waltzes into his studio with all the glamour of a 40s starlet. Steve laughs at the nickname, like he always does, and accepts the strong Irish tea in a takeaway cup. 

"How are you getting this stuff, Ang? I'd swear you had a relative over there but you're Italian through 'n through." Steve inhales the scent of his Mam's (and his) favorite tea with a happy sigh. "Oh that is so good. I'm gonna miss this." He takes a long drink of it and sets it down to get to work. 

"Miss what?" Angie unwinds her wing restricter and carefully does the stretches that Steve taught her. Each set of feathers gleams with bronze, the green sheen that follows them in sunlight the exact same color as her eyes. 

"This is your last session," Steve points out as he pulls on gloves to handle her wing. "May I?" 

"Of course. Since it is my last session and all, I'm obliged to tell you that English has been dying to meet you." Angie slyly murmurs as Steve gently feels out the joints in her wings and shuffles a few feathers out with his movements. 

"Did you move this wing outside of the restrictions?" Steve asks with a narrowed look. 

"Hooky with English." 

"Ang..." 

"I got kinky with my girlfriend, Steve." Angie snarks flatly. "A few feathers falling out isn't the worst." He turns bright red at the information. "I was trying to save your poor Irish skin from that blush of yours." 

Steve clears his throat and resumes the exam while studiously avoid Angie's gaze. He finishes up and removes the harness entirely. 

"Stretch it out slowly but all the way," he says as he watches the muscles move. Smooth movement and the graceful return of her fold tells Steve she's completely healed. "You're all healed up but remember to take care for a few weeks—That means be _careful_ when you hooky with your gal." 

Angie laughs, a soft scratchy quality to the noise that Steve knows is inherent in all winged. 

"Can do, soldier." She gives him a mock salute with two fingers and then hugs him close, her wings wide and open as they flutter slightly. "Come, come, show me the smile." 

Steve chuckles softly and grins as she pecks his cheek. "Hollywood, stay outta trouble, alright?" 

"Says the man that gets into more fist-fights than a boxer." Angie comments wryly as Steve collects her feathers with his still-gloved hands, offering them to her in a plastic baggie. "No, you keep them. Expect a call on Thursday of next week, sweetheart. I wasn't kidding about her wanting to meet you." 

"Alright. I'll be at the...?" 

"The Stork Club. You'll like it," Angie promises before flouncing out the door with a happy whoop when her wings carry her up and away.

* * *

**-The Stork Club; 20:00 hrs-**

Steve steps into the place and immediately feels underdressed in his khaki pants and plaid shirt over a white tee. Winged and humans co-mingle, some with more wings than others. Angie waves from a table and he gives a slight wave back to weave amongst humans and winged. 

"He's here!" She says excitedly, tapping a two-set winged on the shoulder with her pristine nails. 

The woman that turns around steals Steve's breath away. Carefully coifed dark hair falls just right above honey-cut eyes and a red, red mouth that curves up into a wide smile. "So is this the poor therapist you've been giving my tea to, luv?" 

Oh, Steve is so far down the rabbit hole he's _**gone**_. "Yes, ma'am." 

"Please, call me Peggy. Angie mentioned you were very polite." The laugh lines around Peggy's eyes were softly defined in the yellow glow of the jazz club. Steve's hands itch for a pencil and paper. 

"Hollywood you promised not to ruin my rep..." He teases Angie and she throws her head back in laughter. 

"I promised nothing of the sort, Cap." She counters with a delighted gaze. "He's a scoundrel at heart doll. Don't be taken in by the sucker-punch puppy eyes." 

"Oh?" The brunette brow arches as Peggy watches thier familiar exchange. 

"They are not sucker-punch puppy eyes. I perfected them on Bucky. It's not my fault people can't resist them." Steve points out. 

"Fair enough." 

"May I ask why she's calling you Cap?" Peggy inquires with a soft head tilt. 

Steve scrubs at the back of his neck before shrugging. "I was in the military for a while. Chased after my best friend Bucky and, well, the rest is history. I ended up being a physical therapist after I fixed a wing mid-battle and it didn't heal right. Which is how I met Hollywood. She busted her wing and the hospital I work at recommend me to her." 

"I was expecting this guy to take my wing and yank it out. Gentle as a butterfly, this one." Angie nudges his foot with hers as she wiggles her healed up wing. "Handles it with some serious care. Everyone I meet coming out has a blissful expression. He has a grooming liscence too." 

" _Angie_..." Steve flushes pink but not dark like he usually does when she's teasing him. 

"I could use a good grooming. Is your Tuesday free next week?" Peggy asks as her wings lift and flutter as if to show off her kestrel plumage. 

"Uh, hold on." Steve checks his schedule and notices Tuesday's free in the morning since Angela left. He hasn't filled the spot up yet with anyone, feeling nostalgic about thier conversations. "Sure is. I don't suppose you'd mind sharing your tea with a displaced Irish boy?" 

"I'll bring by a cuppa at nine." Peggy winks and Steve smiles. 

He may not be able to fly but his heart sure feels like it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	2. Sun Soaked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, it's nice to be back in the Marvel fandom~ 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Peggy waltzes in on Tuesday with her wings held high as she glides past Darcy at her desk. 

Darcy leans over the desk and mouths, 'What the hell, Rogers? Hottie at your two.' 

Steve rolls his eyes and shakes Peggy's free hand. In the other she's got a cup full of Irish tea just the way he likes it; with a dash of milk and a drop of honey. 

"Thank you. Did Hollywood make it or did you?" He asks as he leads her over to the backless chaise to keep her wings unruffled. 

"I did," she smiles and Steve's heart is just—Gone. Stolen by two dames with spitfire and moxie and way, _way_ out of his league. 

"Thanks. So, consultation before grooming. Are you comfortable with someone stimulating your glands? A lotta winged aren't so we've got synthetic oil too." Steve yanks himself back on track, trying to stay as professional as possible. 

Peggy makes a face at synthetic and Steve smiles. "Natural, please. I don't like the feel of synthetic. Reminds me too much of hospitals; too impersonal." 

"Gotcha. Natural it is. Now, we have three licensed groomers; Darcy, myself and Janet. Darcy and Janet are both winged and very good." He offers her the page with each of thier services. 

"I'll take you, I should think. Angela's wings were beautifully done when she was coming here. I trust those hands." She insists with a wry twist of her lips. 

"Right this way then. Darce, Studio one's booked for an hour and a half." 

"Sure thing Boss man." 

Peggy removed her jacket and her top, leaving only a tank top and a bra. Steve's tongue feels like it's glued to the roof of his mouth as he turns on the relaxing music. Wing grooming could get messy and he knows logically that she didn't want to get her clothing coated in wing oil. 

Steve pulls on soft gloves in preparation for grooming. He carefully stimulates the uropygial gland, spreading the oil over her feathers first before grooming from the top marginal coverts down to the enormous primaries. It's when Steve's moved to her scapulars for the in-depth grooming that Peggy starts talking. 

"Did you always want to do this?" She glances at him from her spot on the grooming bench. 

"I wanted to be a comic book artist." He laughs, the tension in the room breaking up like it was never there. "There was just, I dunno, a calling to do this." 

"Calling?" Peggy's lips pull into a smile. 

"I fixed Dum-Dum's wing and he had to get it correctively broken thanks to my stupid mistake. He didn't mind but I did and I decided that if I was gonna screw it up once, I should get some training to fix that." Steve admits as he finished up. "There, all done." 

Peggy flares out her wings, tilting them to see their shine in the sunlight pouring through the high windows in the grooming studio. The light refracts off of them and Steve just wants to sit there in the sun-soaked room for as long as he can manage. 

She gently folds her wings in and pulls her clothing back on. 

"Thank you. I expect I'll be coming in every two weeks at nine." 

"Let's get that set up then." Steve agrees even as he sighs internally.

* * *

When Bucky hears about both women, he laughs for a long moment. 

"Stevie, only you could get yourself tangled in a mess like this." 

"Shut up, Buck. I'm gonna give you the worst time ever if you end up finding someone, you jerk." Steve replies as he shoves Bucky with his hand. Bucky does it right back, careful with his metal hand. "How's it working?" 

"It's Stark tech, Steve; it works like a charm. Just..." Bucky bites at his lip and flexes the jointed fingers. "Not all that great about attracting someone." 

"They'll find you," Steve promises as he steers Bucky towards an ice-cream shop. "Y'know, it'd be just your luck that they'd fall right into your lap." 

"Har-dee, har har. Very funny Steve." 

"No, seriously." Steve teases, paying for their ice-cream as he smiles at his best friend. 

"I swear to God, if that comes through, I'm gonna... I'll think of somethin', Stevie, just you wait." Bucky barks back as he licks his ice cream before it melts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	3. Renaissance Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time-skip! Don't worry, there'll be flashbacks of the time missed at some point. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

**-Six Months Later-**

Angie invites him out to one of her plays and then to a screening test and then to a tiny indie movie premiere that's full to the brim with people in fancy clothes and even snootier attitudes. 

He finds Peggy in a corner of the room, ignoring all the men panting after her like dogs. Her elegant red dress accentuates her curves and Steve appreciates it very much but—She's just a good friend. A friend who doesn't need his help but he's gonna offer it anyway. 

"Hey doll." He strides just so through the crowd of men, using his bigger size to intimidate like he hasn't since he left the Army. 

"Steve, darling, you've got a bit of sauce." Peggy laughs as he swipes with his thumb and comes away with a thin streak of marinara sauce. He absently sucks it off and cleans his thumb on a napkin from a tray. 

"Sorry. The food's good but most of the company is lacking." Steve makes sure to say it a little louder than necessary and watches as the men scatter. "I know you coulda kicked them all to kingdom come but then we'd be banned from coming with Angie." 

"Quite right." Peggy's expression turns thoughtful, her dark gaze narrowing as she cocks her head. "Have you done something different to your hair?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah. I grew it out a little. Do you like it?" Steve smiles and Peggy's look is downright confusing as she frowns slightly before giving him a sweet curve of her lips. 

All four of Peggy's wings arch and lift, the undersides buff with speckling flashing briefly. "It suits you." 

"Thanks." 

They stand together and then congratulate Angie when she appears before them, her expression lit up with joy.

"Steve! You came." She hugs him close, her eyes bright as she looks him over. 

"I did. Can't miss my Hollywood's debut into Hollywood, now can I?" He grins as she swats his arm with her clutch and laughs. 

"Only you, Cap, could get away with such a terrible line." Angie shakes her head and presses a kiss to Peggy's cheek. Peggy's wings flick and flutter and Angie's look turns predatory. "Oh? Cap, sweetie, come with us." 

She tugs on one sleeve of his tux and Peggy the other, slipping out of sight into the now empty corridor. 

Both bracket him in with their wings, causing Steve to blink. 

"Steve, we have something to ask you." Peggy says as she spreads her wings to thier full length, taking up space in a manner that suggests she won't take no for an answer. Angie mimics her with a shake of her wings and the stubborn moue she has set on her face. 

"We'd like to date you." Angie blurts as she fiddles with the hem of her gorgeous sea foam gown. "I mean, together. Peggy and I—" Her voice squeaks so Peggy takes over. 

"We know you're waiting for the right partner. If we're not it, we understand." 

Steve's jaw drops. "I... You really wanna date me?" He pinches himself for good measure and then closes his jaw with a sharp click. 

"You're wonderfully sweet, haven't fetishized our relationship in any way and you have been unfailingly polite and bowing out when you think you're not wanted." Peggy huffs although any other idea's ridiculous. "Of course we do."

* * *

Steve's on cloud nine through the rest of the party. He hums as he walks out the side entrance, a goofy grin spreading across his face at the thought of the kisses Angie and Peggy showered on him. 

When he reaches his apartment, he carefully removes the tuxedo before sliding into his art clothes and losing himself to the groove of pencil against thick paper. Steve digs through his mediums before deciding on acrylic paint and pulls the whole set up out. He sets down the lighter colors first, mixing the paint he'll use with absolute care. 

Painting the first stroke releases the joy he can't contain. Steve cranks up the happiest music he owns and concentrates on the familiar feathers with the tiniest of strokes. 

By the time he pulls away, Steve covered in flecks of paint, dawn is washing over the sky. 

It's Angie and Peggy clasping hands and looking like they belong in a Renaissance fresco. He scrapes his signature into the dried acrylic, the white standing out against the galaxy edge. 

A knock on his door has him straightening up and looking toward the entrance in attention. 

"Steve?" Peggy's voice coming through the door has him scrambling for the handle. 

"Hi." Steve opens the door and then realizes what he looks like to her. "Ah, sorry. Is it Tuesday?" 

"No," Peggy shakes her head with a fond expression, holding a take-away cup holder and wearing her dark peacoat. Angie's yawning into her hand, leaning on Peggy's wings as though it's normal to be outside of Steve's apartment. "It's Sunday and you look like you haven't slept since the premiere." 

"Oh. Come in, come in. Sorry, I probably left a mess..." Steve opens the door wider, shuffling on auto-pilot to the kitchen and the kettle his Mam always left on the stove. Peggy clucks her tongue and guides him to his couch, sitting him down and shoving a cup under his nose. 

The smell of strong Irish tea wakes him enough to catch Angie's soft gasp. Steve whips his head up, courtesy of his time in the military, searching for the source of her shock. 

"Steve, did... Did you paint this last night?" She asks with wide green eyes flicking from him to the finished work and back. Her wings relax, the tips brushing against Steve's leg as she settles down in front of the painting with a happy hum. 

"I did. Couldn't sleep 'til I got it out." 

"Well, have your tea and sleep, then. We'll still be here when you wake up." Peggy murmurs with a fond look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


	4. The Freedom of Flying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet but I wanted to get a little thing out for Steve's birthday! 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

The first time Peggy stops by for a non-appointment, Darcy whistles low. Peggy glides into the studio, turning every head in the navy blue dress she's wearing that's cut in the back in a W-shape to show off her wings. Steve's mouth turns dry as he takes her manicured hand to tug her close. 

"Hey," He blushes as he presses a soft kiss to her curls. "You're lookin' beautiful, doll. What's the occassion?" 

"We're going to fly today." 

Steve inhales with a shuddering exhale as he looks closer. Her hair is pulled into a twist bun, a few rogue curls escaping and her dress has the flights sewn into it near seamlessly. "Now? Uh, Darce?" 

"Yes, Mon Capiton," She drawls with a smirk pulling at her dark lips. 

"I got anything? Peggy, uh, wants to take me flying." 

Darcy taps at the touchscreen with a few quick strokes and hums. "All clear, Cap. Go have some fun. Janet and I'll man the fort! Or, well, woman it." 

"Thanks, Darcy."

* * *

They pick one of the landing strips in the park across the studio, Peggy patiently waiting as Steve fiddles with his goggles. 

"Steve, come here." She adjusts them with clever fingers and tugs him close. "Arms around my neck and your feet locked in the middle of the back of my thighs. I'm more than capable enough to hold a fully grown man." 

"It's not that," Steve admits as he does just that. "I've... never told anyone but—I _love_ flying. I just wasn't born with wings." 

Peggy softens, stroking his cheek with the back of her fingers. "We'll have to take you up as often as possible then. Now, hold on tight." 

Steve buries his face in her neck laughing as they take off in two strokes of her wing sets. When he looks up, the smile that brightens his face is almost enough to make Peggy lose her altitude. 

" ** _Peggy!_** " He yelps as she banks hard enough to spiral, grinning like a loon as she does it again. She climbs higher and spirals so that she's upside down and Steve can feel the wind on his face. "Thank you." He whispers, overwhelmed at the thought that he can ask to do this again. "Thank you so much." 

"You're welcome, darling." Peggy hums in reply.

* * *

Angie takes him flying on his birthday, Steve laughing in delight as she shows up in a red-white-and-blue set of flights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, complain, ect.


End file.
